Page 416 - tender-is-the-night

‘It’d be a good ground to find likely specimens.’ He
nodded here and there at the people milling about in the
golden sand. ‘Great candidates. Notice our old friend, Mrs.
Abrams, playing duchess to Mary North’s queen? Don’t get
jealous about it—think of Mrs. Abram’s long climb up the
back stairs of the Ritz on her hands and knees and all the
carpet dust she had to inhale.’
Rosemary interrupted him. ‘But is that really Mary
North?’ She was regarding a woman sauntering in their di-
rection followed by a small group who behaved as if they
were accustomed to being looked at. When they were ten
feet away, Mary’s glance flickered fractionally over the Div-
ers, one of those unfortunate glances that indicate to the
glanced-upon that they have been observed but are to be
overlooked, the sort of glance that neither the Divers nor
Rosemary Hoyt had ever permitted themselves to throw at
any one in their lives. Dick was amused when Mary per-
ceived Rosemary, changed her plans and came over. She
spoke to Nicole with pleasant heartiness, nodded unsmiling-
ly to Dick as if he were somewhat contagious—whereupon
he bowed in ironic respect—as she greeted Rosemary.
‘I heard you were here. For how long?’
‘Until to-morrow,’ Rosemary answered.
She, too, saw how Mary had walked through the Divers
to talk to her, and a sense of obligation kept her unenthusi-
astic. No, she could not dine to-night.
Mary turned to Nicole, her manner indicating affection
blended with pity.
‘How are the children?’ she asked.

416 Tender is the Night